


Recovery Process

by KivaTaliana



Series: Swings And Roundabouts [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Historical abuse, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Pyschological explanations relating to castes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaTaliana/pseuds/KivaTaliana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The case is something of an emotional one, and better for one of them than most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a case which John thought Greg should have been left out of. Sherlock had dismissed any concerns that John had raised but the case of a kidnapped, frightened child seemed a little close to home, and Greg's emotions had been rising and falling over the last few days. 

What made the whole thing worse was the little girl in question had been kidnapped by her uncle to get back at her mother, over a small sum of money. 

Greg had gently carried the little girl away to the mother waiting outside, as he was the only one who had been able to calm and reassure her. It was the omega in him, the gentleness that she could sense; something that made sense to John. Greg was good with all three of his children. John turned his attention to the uncle, who lingered in a corner of the room, watching him, Sherlock and Donovan warily. 

Tension rippled in the room, and it ramped up further as Greg wandered back, his eyes fixed on the man in the corner. 

"DI Donovan, I'm sure it would be a good idea to try and get a statement from the girl and her mother now," Sherlock said. 

"We need to get this guy to the station, the car will be here in a minute." 

"This will only take two," Sherlock directed his words to Greg, who started to unbutton his coat. As he whipped it off Sherlock held out his arm to take it off him. "Two minutes." 

"I heard you the first time."

"Sherlock?" John interrupted. Sherlock turned, moving so he was facing John and Sally and also blocking them from Greg. 

"Like I said, two minutes." 

There was something in the tone of his voice and sheer force of his personality that meant they were soon moving towards the door, and heading outside. The man's voice rose in pitch as Greg started to stalk him. 

"You're going to leave me alone with him!" There was some fear, and disbelief in the tone. Sherlock turned back to glare at the man who was now pinned in the corner. 

"Yes, I'm certain Greg can make you see the error of your ways." 

"Really?" 

"He's a full-blooded omega," Sherlock said, speaking very slowly, and clearly to get his point across. "The worst fate you can deliver to someone who harms a child is leave them with an omega."

He swept the others out and shut the door. John turned to him. 

"Is that wise?" 

"I'm sure Greg can only do so much damage in the two minutes I've given him. It will do Greg good."

There was the sound of breaking wood and a yelp, a sound which did not come from Greg. 

"No blunt objects!" Sherlock yelled at the door. There was a rattle as something struck it. 

"Spoilsport!" Greg's voice shouted back. 

"Sherlock," John snapped. "He's not stable enough for this. He shouldn't have been involved."

"On the contrary, it's the very thing he needs. He needs to start behaving like an omega again."

There was another crash, then a thud, followed by a yelp. 

"Help!" 

"In one minute twenty seven seconds," Sherlock informed him loudly after a glance at his watch. 

"Sherlock this will affect the case," Donovan snapped. 

"I doubt it," Sherlock said. "The man was caught red-handed."

"And then brutalized when in police custody."

"You haven't charged him yet, he's not formally arrested, he is not, therefore, in police custody. Besides as he is the brood omega of the most powerful man in this country, not that he would ever admit it, I doubt that Her Majesty's police service will have any issues." 

"You can't do that!" John said. 

Sherlock whipped his phone out. "Yes, I can." 

As he pressed a button and put his phone to his ear they all knew who he was calling. 

"Mycroft! I think we have reached the snapping point, he's got fifty seven seconds until I need to control him. He's calm enough, but your presence would be... productive." 

There was a pause, where clearly that carefully chosen final word registered with the recipient. 

"Yes, the current case." 

Another pause. 

"I'll hold him here," Sherlock said squaring his shoulders and going through one of those almost lightening changes that John had seen and was now only starting to comprehend. 

Sherlock rang off. 

"Mycroft will be here in ten minutes, likely less, we just need to hold Greg. Donovan can you take the suspect?" 

"And deal with his complaint of police brutality." 

"He'll not complain. Two minutes." 

Sherlock turned and opened the door. 

"Greg, enough, let go!" 

John followed Sherlock to the door, worried about what he was about to see. Sherlock threw light on the man cowering in a corner, bleeding from a split lip, and wide-eyed as he stared at a tense, panting Greg. Greg stood stock still, his spine rigid and he exhaled heavily as Sherlock moved towards him. 

He eased Greg back, but he seemed to be breathing so heavily that it sounded like Greg was growling, the cowering man flinched with every sound. 

"Gregory, enough." Sherlock sounded so like Mycroft that John turned his head to look for the man in question. 

Greg huffed a little more but let Sherlock bodily shove him out of the door, leaving the shaken man behind. He looked at Donovan with a wide-eyed pitiful expression. 

Outside Greg's breathing deepened further as he look in lungfuls of fresh air. Sherlock stepped up behind him, wrapping an arm around Greg's waist and he jerked as Sherlock bit lightly on his neck. A moment later Sherlock pulled back, letting him settle before saying. 

"Steady and breath." 

"What do you think I am doing?" Greg snarled at him. Then after another growl and a pause, he asked, "Mycroft?" 

"On the way, now just stay calm..." 

"In a moment..." 

"Do you need to walk a little?" Sherlock released his grip. 

"No, just breathing is good." 

"Good, steady and relax," Sherlock drew out the last word as the sleek, black, car drew up to the kerb. Greg growled as Donovan walked past with the suspect but it was the same moment that Mycroft stepped from the car, not bothering to wait for his chauffer and getting out himself. 

John frowned as he watched Greg smirk maliciously at the man. Sherlock put a hand on Greg's neck and Greg recoiled, turning to snarl at Sherlock. Back-peddling away Sherlock stared with mild surprise, raising his hands in surrender. 

"Don't do that!" Greg snapped at him. 

"Sorry," Sherlock said, John blinked in surprise, watching the pair of them, trying to comprehend what was happening. By this point Mycroft had reached the cluster of people and put his hand on Greg's neck, stepping into his personal space. Greg inclined his head to allow Mycroft to do so, his entire body language changing as he leant against his alpha. Mycroft murmured quietly to him for a moment.

"I'll have him done for assault!" the man shouted as Donovan tried to get him into the police car. Then he turned to glare at his sister. "And I'll sort you out!" 

Mycroft turned his head, fixing a feral gaze on the man in question. The look was enough to turn anyone to stone. 

"You will do no such thing," Mycroft said smoothly, still glowering as he carefully shifted Greg so his omega could press his face into his neck and breath deeply. 

"I have rights!" the man argued, not sounding the least bit convincing under Mycroft's implacable gaze. At the same time Mycroft increased his grip on Greg's neck, and he gave a muffled growl. 

"Settle down," Mycroft murmured, without moving his gaze from the man. "I'm sure you do," was all he added, making that fact sound somewhat tenuous. 

John glowered from one to the other, watching as the man was bundled away, a WPC and a lingering Anthea put the woman and her child into the car and Mycroft slowly started to lead Greg to the sleek dark vehicle at the side of the road. 

"I don't understand this." 

"Really, John, I would have thought you might have been able to exert your powers of observation for at least a few minutes." 

"I was watching." 

Sherlock glared at him. 

"No, you clearly weren't."


	2. Chapter 2

Mycroft settled Greg against him, and he pressed the button on the intercom to speak to the driver. 

"Home!" he snapped curtly as the car moved off into traffic. Mycroft tried not to react as Greg sniffed his neck. He knew he should try and get a seatbelt around his omega but he would probably now refuse to move, and his mind was in such a delicate state that Mycroft had no desire to disturb that. At this point in the proceedings trying to persuade Greg verbally, or move him physically, would end in some kind of battle. Such a thing would be fruitless. Instead Mycroft ran a hand over Greg's hair and the omega gave a contented murmur. 

"Are you all right?" Mycroft asked. 

"Fine," Greg said enjoying the alpha scent, but still feeling the buzz of the adrenaline running through his system. He tensed slightly. 

"I have spoken to Mary, and also William's school. She will collect him, and bring all three of them home. She doesn't mind looking after them for a little longer. We have two hours before they arrive, in which time we can probably get you stable." 

Greg debated that, thinking that he actually wanted to argue, he wanted to fight over it, but Mycroft would remain placid, as the alpha knew he needed to. So Greg inhaled Mycroft's scent and let his thoughts swirl. 

"And you want me to yourself," Greg snarled after a few deep breaths, he pressed harder against Mycroft, who saw no point in evading. 

"Yes, I am your alpha after all." And quite frankly, the aggressive, rather possessive, Gregory was something Mycroft liked spending time with. The personality that he had once known was surfacing again, and like the others in Greg's life, Mycroft wanted his share. 

"I'm inundated with alphas," Greg said, hips shifting as he rubbed against Mycroft suggestively. 

"Quite," the alpha agreed, as there was Will; and Georgina appeared to have the same demanding streak of her eldest brother, and in their eyes, their omega was Greg. "However, those are your children, rather than your partner." 

Mycroft tried not to wince as he was bitten again, Greg held on keeping a sliver of skin between his teeth, knowing full well he was hurting. 

"You continue in such a manner, I will bite back." 

Greg unclenched his jaw, and licked across the damaged skin. Mycroft watched the streets passing by, through the tinted windows. The driver of the car, a steady, un-reactive, beta, continued what he was doing as if the interaction in the back seat was not occurring. It was the reason he had been on standby for this particular assignment, Mycroft decided on the need for him the moment Sherlock had rung, and they had both been waiting for this moment, waiting for a way to spark it off. The children did enough of a job, but they needed to push Greg's boundaries. However, they had mutually decided that children were still very productive in the equation. 

"John's cross with you," Greg said. 

"John Watson is no concern of mine, and he might react to any hint of you playing us off but I won't."

"Smug git! It only works when I can use Sherlock." 

Mycroft did huff at that. "Sherlock is not stable enough for such games, I sincerely hope you leave him out of such things." 

"John doesn't." 

"John Watson does not understand what he is doing. For a member of the medical profession who claims to care he shows himself up as ignorant of what Full-Blooded castes actually need." 

"I know what I need," Greg said. 

"A brandy, for now. I am not fucking you on the backseat of my limousine." 

Greg gave a childish giggle. 

"What's the matter?" 

The giggling increased. "You said fuck!" 

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"You clearly, truly do not understand the responsibilities of the castes, to themselves and each other," Sherlock said as he sat down with Mary and John. Little Emilia was in the care of Mrs Hudson and Mycroft now had his family squirreled away at home, under his control. 

"No," Mary said. Looking from John to Sherlock, determined to engineer some kind of resolution to the blockage that appeared to have occurred.

"You think that I shouldn't have involved Greg in the case, that I shouldn't have stirred his basic instincts, despite the fact I was reversing what Moriarty had done to him, that I pulled out what he had pushed down inside him?"

"You just let him beat someone up, how is that helping?"

"It helps John, as long as you look beyond remits of what you merely see. I would have thought that you caught up by now, have you not realised that level of... interaction... between omegas and alphas? You always think that, you people with your silly little minds, you decide that some big bad man runs the show; no he doesn't, the herd, the females, the bearers of young; are they not the most dangerous things you can ever encounter? You both have latent genes, but you fulfil the roles of your caste so well it was obvious any children you have will Full-Blood. 

"This is boring," Sherlock said as he paced across the room and almost reached for his violin. 

"Sherlock don't you dare! You don't get away with throwing random, unconnected facts around the place without putting them into context. What the hell were you doing? It was like this case was a sideline to dealing with Greg." 

"The case was obvious, that was the easy part!" Sherlock announced. He snatched up the violin as John made a grab for it. Sherlock carefully held the item to his chest, plucking the strings lightly.

"You thought, perhaps quite naturally, for someone uninformed about the details, that the case was too much for Greg." 

"I said that, several times," John snapped. Mary frowned. 

"But I don't see how it would make him think of his kidnap. I know he was carrying when Moriarty took him, but Moriarty never touched Will, or bothered about Nathanial." 

Sherlock paused looking moderately impressed with her reasoning. 

"But on the second of those, Greg didn't truly know," Sherlock said. "Moriarty took a big risk, in removing the child from Greg. Greg had done what he had to do to keep the baby safe, and it was probably one reason that Moriarty removed Nathanial in the first place. Possessive brood omegas are a dangerous thing." 

"Really?" Mary asked with a frown. 

"Why do you think most Full-Bloods are extremely respectful around you?" he asked Mary. "They realise you are latent, but your child is Full-Blooded, and they can scent it. You've seen the way they are around Greg." 

"Very polite I suppose," Mary said. 

"He's a Full-Blooded omega, with Full-Bloodied children, they are more than polite, they are very respectful and although they acknowledge him, and give the hints that they want him, they do not walk anywhere close to him, and most certainly not near the children. They would not risk Greg's wrath. Not even Mycroft approaches his newborn children until Greg gives him express permission. It is one very carefully adhered to tradition."

"He doesn't get that upset. With anyone." 

"Greg has an immense amount of self-control, most omegas have to, if they ran on instinct alone most alphas and betas would be missing body parts. That is part of what an alpha can do for the omega, the alpha scent is calming to them."

"Is it?" Mary asked with a sly glance at John. 

Sherlock nodded. "I know Greg spends most of his time annoyed by Mycroft, but that is about his actions, not his smell. It is quite noticeable that when he's angry with Mycroft, Greg stays a little away from him, so as not to be over-influenced by his scent. On the flip side, Moriarty used Greg's self-control, and the children, against him. An omega will do anything for their children, they can have absolutely no sense of self-preservation, and no feeling of pain." 

"So Moriarty twisted that, somehow, to do what to Greg?" Mary said. "I know he had Greg under his control." 

"Omegas, as a rule, are stubborn, extremely physically confident, observant and self-aware. And not afraid to say what they think, most especially to an alpha." 

"Greg's a lot of that," Mary conceded. 

"And the rest," Sherlock said. "Moriarty turned Greg into a church mouse. It takes a lot to influence an omega, especially for an alpha to do it, that tends to work the other way round." 

"I know Mycroft is usually very understanding of Greg's needs," John said. Sherlock snorted and played an irritated sounding tune for a few bars. 

"No, Mycroft is just sensible enough to accept the inevitable. Omegas control the relationship, alphas go running to them, they have to do all the hard work to prove that they are worthwhile breeding with." 

"Omegas don't have to do that?" Mary asked. 

"Not as a rule no," Sherlock said. "Omegas easily attract alphas. Gregory can seem to manage it by merely breathing. I have observed the way Full-Bloods watch him. Mary has a similar aura to her." 

"So what's with the omega centre, and the hospital, if they can take care of themselves so well." 

"Because they are the most important, and they don't look after themselves, like I said, self-preservation is not one of their main qualities, for that they tend to need a watchful alpha," Sherlock said, he put his violin down and sat in his chair. He settled, staring into the middle distance. Mary and John waited a moment, but nothing further seemed forthcoming for a moment. 

"Sherlock?" John said. Then he huffed and his tone hardened. "Sherlock?!" 

The shout caused him to jump and turn. "What?" 

"Don't piss off into your mind palace until you've finished." 

"I had."

John scratched his head. "Question time. So, you engineered Greg helping us with this case, because you thought this would stir him up?" 

"It did," Sherlock pointed out. 

"Mycroft put you onto this?" 

Sherlock pouted. "No, I put him onto the case, we were both looking for something that might be relevant enough. When it came up through Scotland Yard a hint to the woman indicated that perhaps hiring me might be a better option. My rates are always very reasonable, when they need to be."

"And you had Mycroft already working on the solution. That's why it only took a few days, he got all the intel on the brother." 

"Enough for both of us to be easily able to conclude on the kidnapper, then it was just a question of finding him." 

"Given yours and most especially Mycroft's resources that took longer than expected." John glared at him, and his fists clenched. Mary blinked as she watched John, then she realised what he had just worked out. 

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "The result..."

"Justified itself?" John snapped at him. "You delayed on the result, to get Greg worked up. You left that little girl in danger..." 

"We assessed there was no physical danger to her, she would be scared but..." 

"Exactly, consider the mental damage!"

"Mycroft weighed 48 hours damage against a year of Will's. Naturally his own son won."

"What?" 

"Will is working to draw Greg back, but he is irreparably damaged by what happened, the sooner Greg starts to perform like an omega, the better he will be for it. Will has already been damaged over the course of the last year, Mycroft needs to end that as soon as possible. Emotionally damaged alphas are even less attractive than their omega counterparts." 

"So... Greg seemed fine when I took the kids home, I think he and Mycroft had even...." Mary paused. 

"Had sex," Sherlock said as she tailed off. He made it sound distasteful and he grimaced. 

"He looked quite happy," Mary added to them. The children had hurled themselves on him eagerly. Greg had gathered them up, leaving Mycroft to perform the 'thank yous' to her. And although his words, and tone, had been fine, his eyes had been lingering on Greg, with a trace of something beyond concern. 

"So," Mary added, looking to Sherlock. "This is like a good step... mentally. He'll improve from this?" 

Sherlock started playing with his violin again. "That's the theory." 

John glowered at him. "Reality doesn't always match."


	3. Chapter 3

They were all sleeping peacefully. Greg had gone round the three rooms a few times. He couldn't sleep, he tried to, and then he went and looked at the children and the man in the study at the far end of the corridor, near his own bedroom, tactfully stayed away. In the end, Greg sat down on Will's bed and watched the little boy sleep. 

He looked peaceful enough, and that was a blessing, but that look was horribly deceptive. Will was the one that suffered nightmares, he had been the one who had lost his omega. It could have been argued that Will had been too young to understand. And it was true the intricacies of the situation were probably lost on him, but his instinct had remained, and Greg's absence was certainly, significantly, wrong. 

There were times when it felt like Will had pulled himself back, hiding deep down. Outwardly he clung to him, acted babyishly when he wanted a reaction, and vocalised his dissatisfaction, but that part wasn't always what Greg noticed. His own instinct kept telling him that Will held something back, something that had been tightly locked up over the year that he had gone, and hadn't been brought out. Not yet at least; over a year after his return. 

Greg knew it could only be him that retrieved it, and he knew he needed to. Will did not, very often anyway, exhibit many of the traits that Mycroft and Sherlock held, making themselves separate, and lonely. But it could possibly happen, unless Greg earned his trust again. He could do it, everything he did worked towards that, whether the movement was conscious or unconscious. They had used Will to get a reaction out of Greg, knowing his omega instinct would not ignore it. There would have been the worry that he had been completely damaged by the whole experience, but he had pulled back from the brink, after a year of conditioning. Trapped in the attic that time had seemed so long, and Greg now reflected a year wasn't long when you were busy, just going about daily life, sometimes Greg had got to the turn of winter and wonder where the hell another year had gone. 

That year had dragged, with his body trapped in that room and his mind locked away in itself. There had been nothing to do, except sit and wait; for Mycroft to rescue him; for Moriarty's horrific visits; to be bred upon; to go insane, the list had been oddly endless yet couldn't fill what seemed like a vast expanse of time. 

Greg reached up to stroke Will's hair. He didn't stir, and Greg sat back again. The sound of someone else stirring drifted to his senses, but he didn't move. They would come to him. 

Seconds later Nathanial trotted into the room, half asleep and dragging his panda toy along by his leg. For a moment he didn't register Greg's presence, until he reached the bed, aiming to get in with Will. Nathanial blinked sleepily up at him, giving him a slightly dopy smile before he clambered around Greg's back, onto the bed and he crawled up towards Will. Greg helped by lifting the duvet so Nathanial could crawl in and snuggle up against Will's back. Will shifted, but continued to sleep, unaware of his little brother in close proximity. 

There would be some unhappiness in the morning. Nathanial would be pushed to the far edge of the bed, almost holding on for dear life. Or he would be pushed to the bottom of the bed, or Will would bully him for the rest of the following day. Greg saw the pattern. Will wanted to reject Nathanial, but that didn't mean he disliked his little brother. They played together, and the one time Will saw another boy push Nathanial over there had been a short-lived, but quite vicious, fight; which Will had won.

Will was in conflict with himself, because he was reacting to Greg's uncertainty. He had reacted to his loss, then when he had returned Will had clung, he had caused reactions, but not the ones he truly needed. And Greg couldn't let him down, he couldn't leave his eldest child floundering as he was, uncertain of the world around him. Although the action had not been deliberate, he had shattered Will's faith in him, the little boy's world had had it's foundation destroyed when Greg had sent him running, and had then not been there to pick up the pieces. 

Nathanial was unaffected. He had been separated from Greg almost immediately, and he had been young when Greg had returned. He managed to slot into his second son's life without fuss. And Georgina would know nothing of it, at least throughout her childhood. 

Greg had faced a great deal since he had been rescued, but not in his own mind, in the way that the case had brought out. And despite the trauma, he was not an idiot. Sherlock and Mycroft had waited for this moment. They hadn't engineered it. He wouldn't have put it past them to set something up, if they thought it might help. Instead, they had both bided their time, and when this had appeared, they had put Greg in line of sight, and let him run, knowing they only needed to contain him when he had unleashed all the feelings he wanted to let go of, and find the ones he needed. 

Poor John spent so long disapproving of everything they did. Greg appreciated the concern, and understood John's apprehension, but he didn't entirely understand the trust that Greg needed to have in the people close to him. 

"Are they all right?" Mycroft asked. Greg had been aware of the approach down the corridor, but hadn't turned away from his two sleeping sons to acknowledge him. 

"Yes. Are you not going to ask me?" 

"I know you're perfectly fine," Mycroft said. "Better than you have been for a long while." 

Greg turned to look up at him. "Oh you know that for sure do you?" 

"Yes, the moment you turned into a giggling wreak in the car because I swore." 

Greg giggled again. Mycroft moved closer, standing as close to Greg as he could and his omega put his cheek against Mycroft's hip. Mycroft's hand ran over his hair, stroking gently. 

"Thank you. It must have tried your patience waiting for a case like that."

"It took longer than expected, but we had a strong network of information, we knew something would flag up."

"You don't seem very surprised that I know, that you knew."

"You're not stupid Gregory. Which is why I vetoed the idea of setting up such a scenario."

Greg nodded. 

"John was angry, again," Mycroft said, as if asking for an explanation. 

Greg sighed. "I don't think his anger is entirely misplaced. But like you said to him years ago, he needs to see the world as a battle ground."

"He is a man who needs a cause to fight. I hardly think the world of the Full-Blooded makes for a satisfying enemy."

"It does since his daughter is one."

"He has only just learnt of that, anger can be expected."

"Not like you to be so understanding," Greg observed. 

"I owe John Watson a level of allegiance, he gains my understanding."

"Are you actually daring to insinuate that you like someone?" 

"Shush!" Mycroft said. "That is not what I said. He is still lacking in certain levels of intelligence."

"He can't understand how I tolerate you so much." 

"You don't tolerate me, you trust me." Mycroft said. "He cannot see the connection between what he sees as submission and the trust it requires, even in his own wife." 

"Yes," Greg agreed. He didn't think at any time he had submitted to Mycroft, but he had to show him trust. John probably didn't realise the utter trust that Greg had to show to the man, the alpha, whom he had to put the fate of his welfare into. That had to come at the start, he didn't have to like him, certainly not love him, but he had to take him as trustworthy. The omega centre didn't allow any alpha to walk in and take control of an omega, they had to have proved themselves, to be controlled, and able to do what they needed. They didn't need to be affluent, or powerful, in the outside world; although many full-bloodied families were. The alphas just had to be proven capable of handling someone who would control the relationship but could often be emotionally, and physically, compromised by their own biology. 

"I just worry, about Will, have I damaged his ability with an omega, and can I fix it?" 

"I think Nathanial is wearing him down on that, and I know perhaps some of our actions over this case were harsh but Sherlock and I..." 

"You don't have to justify it to me, there was a moment..." Greg interrupted and then paused. "When I looked at the case, when I though, that Will could become like you." 

"William has no resemblance to me, in the way that you are thinking." 

"You're sure of that?" Greg said. 

"I don't think his trust is irreparable. It's been stretched to it's limits, but not completely damaged. I promised him, he believed me, and I did deliver."

"You took your time." 

"It was not through lack of trying, or severe misuse of resources.... why is that so funny?" Mycroft asked as Greg giggled. 

"Misuse," Greg giggled. "Funny word."

Mycroft let his omega giggle without commenting, it would only make the giggling worse. And he knew asking for an explanation of why it was so funny would render Greg utterly useless, when Mycroft didn't want him useless, he wanted him in the bedroom. He continued to stroke Greg's hair, and let him giggle, until the omega's head moved, so his cheek was pressed to Mycroft's groin rather than his hip. 

Greg seemed extremely interested in the reaction that caused. Mycroft just found Greg's behaviour fascinating, and a strong return to his omega self; even his scent seemed to be peaking. He blinked in concern. 

"Is this causing a heat?" Mycroft asked. 

Greg stopped pressing his face into Mycroft's groin and tried to calmly assess his own symptoms. He felt an overwhelming urge for sex, one of the main clues of heat, but it didn't feel utterly consuming. 

"Not reactionary," Greg concluded. "But I don't know, heats can by psychological." 

"Indeed, perhaps we should take this to another room." 

Mycroft made the suggestion as Will stirred, probably unconsciously picking up Greg's increased scent. Greg reached out to run his fingers through Will's hair. The little boy blinked sleepily up at Greg then gave a grumble as he felt Nathanial behind him. Greg watched the duvet move as Will attempted to kick out. 

"Stop it, there's plenty of room for both of you." 

The touch, and tone of Greg's voice, seemed to settle him down again, and he turned over, snuggling closer to Nathanial. Greg made sure the two boys were settled before turning to Mycroft again. Realising he had Greg's attention Mycroft pulled him onto his feet. 

"We are perhaps best to take this to my bedroom, or your own if you prefer." 

His own was nearer to the children, but only by a few feet, and Greg often though that keeping that room clear of any adult relationships kept a clear dividing line. He wasn't sure how productive it was, but he had, when he needed to, taken himself to Mycroft's room. 

"Yours," Greg said decisively. 

"Very well. I wish to misuse you."

Greg giggled, "that's unfortunate, I was hoping to be well-used, rather than misused." 

"I'm competent, I'm sure I can accomplish both."


	4. Chapter 4

"Hi Sally," Greg said five days later, as his phone rang right in the middle of breakfast. She hadn't spoken to him since the incident with the case and Mycroft had kept him under wraps, literally. Greg had learnt, via Sherlock, that the case had been closed and naturally the man had not made a formal complaint. His lawyer advised him against it Sherlock had announced with a smirk. 

And life just carried on. Greg had concentrated on his family with a little bit of research for Sherlock, and then Mycroft, on the side. He wasn't quite sure what to expect from the call, considering what had happened. 

"How quickly can you get here?" she demanded. 

"Here where?" Greg asked. 

"The Yard," she snapped. 

"What? Does Sherlock...." 

"Nothing to do with him, we need you. A possible link to the old Dixon case has cropped up, and you are the most familiar with it." 

"Ok, I suppose I could, if Mrs Hudson can take the kids," Greg started planning. "Once I drop Will at school." 

"Bring them if you have to, I'll set up a crèche." 

"Ok, I suppose I could, although it's not exactly normal to just keep bringing civilians into things." Greg's head turned. "William!" 

Greg warned his son as he caught him reaching over to try and steal a slice of Nathanial's toast. The little hand retreated and Greg put some more bread into the toaster. Will busied himself reaching for the margarine and jam in anticipation. Greg smirked, then brought his focus back to Sally. 

"You did it with Sherlock," she accused. "Plus you are still an employee."

Greg frowned. "How can I be?" 

"You never actually resigned, and no one took any formal proceedings to deal with it. I've already checked higher up and we can just bring you back in."

"Really?!" Greg asked in surprise as he wedged the phone against his shoulder so he could talk and deal with the toast as it popped up. William started to butter the slice Greg put in front of him, smearing it unevenly. Greg tided up after him and dolloped some jam on for him. 

"I don't think they want to tangle with your alpha again," Sally said. 

"Why did I never get told about this?" 

"What didn't I tell you?" Mycroft asked as he entered the kitchen, automatically taking the blame for whatever was going on. Greg glanced at him and then down at the kids. 

"It might take me an hour or so, Sal." 

"I've set the briefing for 10." Clearly in anticipation of him saying yes. "Even if you miss that we'll need you if we bring Mac in. He'll only talk to you."

Greg smirked, he was the only one who could probably get the Full-Blooded Alpha into the station, never mind a civil word out of him. 

"I'll drop the kids off and head to you. Mrs Hudson can usually babysit, I'd better ring her." 

Will looked up, almost ready to object to school again, then seemed to think better of it as he looked at Greg, who hung up the phone and looked over at his eldest son. 

"More toast?" Greg asked him. Will nodded and Greg popped another slice into the toaster. 

"How many has he had?" Mycroft asked. 

"Two halves," Greg said with a frown and he turned to keep spreading margarine on the other slices he had toasted.

"They've asked me to go to Scotland Yard, about an ongoing case. I didn't know I was still employed." 

"I made sure of it, since I wasn't sure what was going on, and how you'd feel about it." 

"Well, my bosses feel that they don't want to tangle with you again, so they are very amenable."

Mycroft looked suitably smug. Greg glanced at his watch. 

"I'd better get a move on." Then he looked down at his tee-shirt. "And a shirt and tie. Shit!" 

Will gave a dramatic intake of breath as Greg swore. Nathanial paused nibbling his toast and Georgina packed another small square of hers into her mouth before looking up. 

"I didn't say that," Greg announced. "I need to call Mrs Hudson, or Mary, and tidy the kitchen." 

Mycroft took his shoulders, turning Greg in the vague direction of the doorway. 

"I'm sure Mrs Phillips can tidy up, she is the housekeeper." 

"Yes, she keeps the house, not us." 

"I'm sure she won't mind," Mycroft said. "I do pay her extremely well and I'll call Mrs Hudson while you are getting ready and I can drop the children off if you don't have time." 

"Right," Greg said getting his brain in gear. He handed Mycroft the plate he was holding. "Those are yours, and your tea is there." 

"Thank you," Mycroft said, frowning at the two slices of toast he had been offered. Greg went out of the room and Mycroft glanced up at his children, wondering if he could palm some of his toast off onto them. As he did so, Greg proved that he was psychic, as his voice, as stern as it was when dealing with the kids floated back into the kitchen. 

"Mycroft!" 

Caught out Mycroft sat down to drink the tea and eat his toast, and also phone Mrs Hudson to see if she could take Nathanial and Georgina for a few hours. If worst came to worst Mycroft could work from home, and Mrs Phillips would be more than willing to help with the children. Getting Gregory out was more important. 

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Greg reached Scotland Yard 15 minutes before the briefing, getting out of the car with a coffee in one hand and straightening his tie with the other. He had parked up and exhaled heavily, pulling at the tie again. Mycroft had straightened it before he had left with Will. Mycroft had dropped Nathanial and Georgina off at Mrs Hudson's and Sherlock had offered to help babysit. They were 7.5 on the interest scale this morning. Greg had insisted on taking Will to school. Which had been interesting, with his new, suddenly realised self. Or return to his old self. 

Will had sat in the backseat watching the scenery and letting his fingers worry at Bee's plush sides as they had travelled, but as Greg had got Will out of the car and taken his hand to walk him into school, a little late, the waiting teacher had smiled down. 

"No Bee today?" 

Will paused and pouted. It was the one virtue of a Full-Blooded school, they understood the needs and issues of each caste. Especially the tight bonds that had to be loosened, and it was only the reason of Will's issues that meant Greg had succumbed to allowing Will to attend. He could insist on a change when Will was older, and emotionally stronger, but it would be an upheaval, and Nathanial's clear omega nature made Greg want to rethink and put his younger son in the same school which would understand and nurture him. 

At the comment Greg looked down at Will. "You forgot her, do you want me to fetch her?" 

Again, Bee was now changed because this teacher had turned the appearance of a large cuddly bee into a science lesson so all the children knew Bee was a female, and she worked hard, and she was loved by all the class, but untouched by so many sticky hands. 

"No, she's going with Daddy today," Will's voice piped up. 

Not staying anywhere, she was going. Even Will's way of interpreting things now seemed to be altering. 

"You want me to take Bee to work?" Greg asked. Will looked up at him and nodded, there was a slight trace of awe to his expression, and a flicker of worry. "Okay, she can come with me." 

Will looked happy at that, anxious about Greg leaving him - which was normal at the moment - but he trotted into the school with a minimum of fuss. Greg had gone on his way without any of the usual anxiety that seemed to hound his thought processes. 

He now looked down at Bee tucked up on the passenger seat. Greg sipped his coffee, gave up on his tie and retrieved the toy from the car, tucking her under his arm. Will wouldn't know any different, but taking her now seemed quite important to Greg, as he went into the station and followed the noise; raising his eyebrows at the cluster of people sprawled on the floor. 

"Shit!" a voice swore, the PC in question putting his hands to his bloody nose. Greg turned his attention to the handcuffed man causing all the problems. 

"Hi, Mac, what are you doing?" 

The alpha looked up at him, Greg sipped his coffee. Mac's nostrils flared, and his eyes focused on the cuddly toy under Greg's arm. 

"What the fuck is that?" 

"My eldest son's toy," Greg said, and sipped a little more of his coffee. He watched the alpha inhale again, no doubt picking up the remains of his heat pheromones, Mycroft's scent and the children's all over him. When they had initially met, nearly nine years ago, all it had taken was Greg innocuously sitting in the room with him for half an hour before the alpha had been eating out of his hand. It took even less time now. 

"Help him up," Greg ordered an uninjured PC who looked startled and a little wary. "He'll behave himself."

Sally came around the corner, having been warned of the situation, at least the uncooperative Mac side of it. She hung back as she realised Greg had already taken charge of the situation. The constable helped the handcuffed man up. 

"You can take them off. You've not actually arrested him have you?" 

"Only for assault," Mac said, glaring at the bloody-nosed PC. 

"That was a bit daft wasn't it?" Greg asked, making Mac look somewhat ashamed of himself. Greg inclined his head to the door which would take them though to the interview room. "Come on then." 

Even Sally felt surprised as Mac docilely followed Greg, looking as tame as a puppy. 

"Are you all right?" Mac asked. Greg turned and looked at him, staring him down steadily while holding the door open for Mac to walk through. 

"Perfectly. I'm perfectly all right."


End file.
